US-70, Revisited

Home can be a bit of a nebulous concept. It’s a place. It’s people. It’s brick and mortar. It’s a geographical location. But it’s also sights, sounds, smells, and importantly (at least to me), home cooking. Home isn’t just one thing.

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KOA campground in Alamogordo, just east of White Sands National Monument, at sundown.

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Black Magic

About mid leap, my trail leg, and specifically my trail foot, clipped the tree. This is what we call a miscalculation. Emma Coburn, I am not. I hit the deck. And by hitting the deck, I mean I fell on the trail. Hard. Boom. Down. Not only that, I had the pleasure of landing on my keys, which were by my right hip.

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Bluffview Trail, one of the more picturesque places to run in St. Louis

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No Parachute

I went in to Medicine with the best of intentions, to work tirelessly to do good for people, and hopefully all would turn out well. However, doctors and nurses are subject to the same stressors as other professions.

“If life has taught me one lesson repeatedly, it’s to know when I’ve been beat.” –Principal Seymour Skinner, the Simpsons

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Stones, Ponds, Ripples, and Two-by-Fours

I’m a pediatrician. And I recently did something that most people in the medical world would consider career suicide. In fact, many people that I talk to don’t really seem to understand the idea. I decided to take a sabbatical.

“Because, as it turns out, you have to start somewhere.”

–Mike Birbiglia (“Sleepwalk with Me”)

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